


Number Three on the List

by Footloose



Series: Loaded March EXTRAS [15]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Military, Modern Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 06:16:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Footloose/pseuds/Footloose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur hadn't even proposed yet, but that didn't stop him from making plans for the wedding and the honeymoon anyway -- whether Merlin liked it or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Number Three on the List

**Author's Note:**

> Written as part of the Prompt Request #2 Round for Loaded March Extras:
> 
> Prompted by Dysappointed (LJ)  
>  _One of those late nights when Arthur is on the internet looking for the perfect wedding and the perfect place for their honeymoon, and talking to Merlin about it because he thinks he's asleep. From Merlin's POV?_
> 
> * * *

There were times -- like now -- when Merlin had to remind himself that he was in love with the prat.

It was after 0200, though _that_ was a while ago, and Merlin must have fallen asleep since then, but 0200 was the time that he last remembered from when he cracked an eye open and glanced at the taskbar of Arthur's laptop. That was also right about when Merlin decided that he was going to program every single one of the laptops in the fucking house to go into sleep mode after midnight, because he would give _anything_ to have a full night's sleep.

And he _would_ have had a good night's sleep, too, particularly tonight. Arthur had worked him open until Merlin had been a sobbing mess, and when Arthur had finally bottomed out, Merlin thought that all of his problems were at an end. But, no. Arthur had fucked him slowly -- _tortuously_ slowly -- knocking away Merlin's hand when Merlin tried to get his fingers around his leaking cock. And he'd kept fucking him, at first quiet except for soft groans when Merlin would shove back against him, then, later, dirty-talking with such foul-mouthed expertise that Merlin had nearly climaxed right then and there.

Even then, no.

It wasn't until Arthur had Merlin _begging_ him for release, promising him all sorts, before Arthur would concede to getting down to the business of actually getting them both off. Merlin loved Arthur when he was in this mood, when he was deliberate and slow, when he touched with intent and determination, but Merlin's balls had been about to bloody _explode_.

It had been one of the best orgasms that Merlin had ever had, and Merlin had made sure to tell Arthur that, loudly and repeatedly while Arthur wiped them both off with a warm, damp cloth. "I have no brain cells left," Merlin distinctly remembered saying. He also distinctly remembered Arthur rolling him close, the kiss on his brow, and Arthur's sweet whisper to _go to sleep_.

Arthur shouldn't be awake and functioning at this hour of the night. Not after _that_ sex. Merlin was sure that the others would be complaining about them in the morning, but he didn't care. What he cared about was that Arthur wasn't sleeping when he damn well should be sleeping.

He'd _earned_ it.

But, no. Captain Prat was wide awake -- probably fretting about one thing or another about the way the mission wasn't going the way it should, or how much he hated that he wasn't in control, this once. Or, Arthur was doing the work that he wasn't doing at the office in order to keep up his cover as the dilettante heir of a weapons magnate. Or --

Arthur's hand moved just enough for Merlin to see what was on the screen. It was a lovely picture at dusk, taken at a river's edge. There were torches lit all along the beach, a table for two in white tablecloth, candles flickering in the light wind. A man in a pristine white uniform stood nearby, a tray with two champagne glasses balanced on his hand; in the background, cresting over the rise, was the rooftop to what looked to be a posh resort.

Merlin barely made out Arthur's mutter. "... too much like work. _Hike_ two kilometers to get there? That's not romantic."

There was a faint click. A different page loaded in the web browser. The image appeared almost instantaneously; Merlin squeezed his eyes shut at all the garish colours.

"Bloody _Disney?_ For a honeymoon? That's ridiculous. Maybe when the kids are old enough --"

Another click.

The photo that Merlin saw when he peered through his lashes was of a white beach surrounded with tricoloured basalt rock formations reaching up out of the picture, moss and low vegetation growing from every possible nook and cranny. The ocean was a pale turquoise, rippling lightly in the wind, and there were three wooden boats in the foreground, the flag of Thailand flying on the prow of the one in the middle.

"Possible," Arthur said. There were several clicks. Merlin saw the browser's _Save image?_ prompt box open, but dozed off just as Arthur added the link to a folder.

It wasn't until much later that Merlin recalled what the folder was called. _Arthur and Merlin's Wedding_.

Merlin protested, but where his face was pressed against Arthur's hip, the words came out as a breathy mumble. Arthur reached out and shushed him. His hand was warm and heavy on Merlin's shoulder, soothing and calming as it rubbed down his back. 

Merlin let himself be mollified this once. He'd have to remember to change the name of that folder later, preferably to something less incriminating. Merlin loved every man in Excalibur as if they were his brothers -- well, after Will, of course -- but they were goddamned _snoops_ , and Merlin did not need them stumbling their way through Arthur's bookmarks and finding out that they were getting married.

The last time Merlin looked, the file folder with every single clip that Arthur saved was nearly forty-four megabytes large. _Jesus_. He didn't even know that much information about weddings even _existed_. Merlin was happy to wash his hands of the planning -- it was making Arthur happy to nose about, in any case.

Merlin might give Arthur a hard time over his wedding plans given that Arthur hadn't even proposed yet, but he couldn't stop himself from grinning in memory. The file entitled _Proposal Ideas.doc_ had been password-protected, but that didn't mean much to a cryptographer like Merlin. Although Merlin kind of hoped that Arthur would just drop down to his knee on some random back street of London and propose without a bloody script, he had to admit that _Number Nine: Hike Mount Kilimanjaro and propose just as the sun sets_ would make for a good story to tell their grandchildren.

Merlin drifted off with the glimpse of another beachside photograph -- the sand rose-coloured, but that could just be the lighting. A palm tree stretched out toward the azure waters, and there was a white sailboat in the background.

When he opened his eyes again -- just a sliver -- it was to the sound of Arthur's voice, low and soft. 

"... pretty sure that you wouldn't go for a Church wedding. And, it looks nice, I mean. I've always wanted to go to Costa Rica. But I can't bloody stand sand in my shoes, and I'm not wearing a black tuxedo in that sort of sun."

Merlin choked back a laugh; the sound he made could passably be thought of as a snore. Arthur's fingers ran through Merlin's hair, and Merlin took the opportunity to shift and settle himself more comfortably against Arthur.

Arthur clicked on another link. He made a thoughtful _Hmm_ sound at Greece -- seeing the Acropolis would be nice. Merlin had never seen it in person.

He clicked again. There was a sprawling mountainside hotel facing the ocean, the forest lush behind and surrounding the isolated beach. Bali. That one went directly to Arthur's _Arthur and Merlin's Excellent Adventure_ folder.

Arthur scrolled right past Paris, France. Merlin made an approving sound. He thought he saw Arthur smirk out of the corner of his eye and wondered if Arthur had figured out that Merlin was awake.

Arthur lingered on Venice -- Merlin didn't blame him. The post-sunset photograph of a yellow-lit Canal with a gondola drifting across the waterway was inviting. Arthur clicked past, muttering, "I didn't like _Quantum of Solace_ that much."

Merlin barely restrained the urge to roll his eyes.

There were more pictures of beaches and fancy resorts in every enticing configuration -- beachsides, palm trees, sunsets, every colour of the blue spectrum in the ocean and the sky. The constant clicks and page refreshes were dizzying; Merlin closed his eyes.

"They're all the same," Arthur muttered. He sounded so disappointed that Merlin wanted to laugh.

Merlin ran his hand up Arthur's thigh comfortingly. When he hit the laptop, he considered knocking it to the floor. The screen might crack or it might snap clean off. It would jar the hard drive loose. Maybe Merlin could convince Arthur that all of his precious "wedding" plans had been lost and impossible to recover.

Arthur wrenched the laptop out of the way, as if reading Merlin's mind. "Don't you dare."

Merlin pretended he was asleep.

Arthur grunted. He elbowed Merlin's head several times. "Come on, you. I know you're awake. Look at these, tell me what you think."

"Ugh. No," Merlin said, pulling his head from the comforting curve of Arthur's hip and turning over to lie on his other side, his back to Arthur. "I'm not looking at honeymoon places when you haven't even proposed."

"Merlin," Arthur said, tugging on Merlin's arm. "Merlin, look at me."

Merlin yanked the pillow over his head. "No. God. You're not proposing to me right now. It's late, I'm tired, my chest itches where you missed a spot in the post-fuck wash-up, and I'd really just like to sleep. Please."

There was a long silence.

"Well, that takes care of Number Three on the list," Arthur muttered. 

Merlin lifted the pillow up to look at him. "Number Three was _after the best sex we've ever had_. This is more like _while getting harassed for honeymoon ideas at bloody --_ "

Merlin glanced at the clock on his side of the bed.

"-- _0345_."

"You read my list," Arthur said. The pillow was yanked away.

Merlin froze. He tried for innocence, but he probably failed. "I... may have?"

"There was a password on it for a reason."

"Really?" Merlin shifted in bed until he was facing Arthur again. He propped up on his arm. "You're shagging the best cryptographer on the planet and you don't realize that putting a password on something is like a bloody _invitation_?"

The corner of Arthur's mouth twitched.

"Wait. You... That wasn't real, was it? That file? Everything on it was fake?"

Arthur leaned down and pressed a kiss to Merlin's lips -- quick and light, but it had enough heat to sink through to Merlin's bones. "Do you really think I would put my best plans where the enemy can find them?"

"Oh, I'm the enemy now?"

"Only when you hack my computer and go through my files and force me to take extreme measures to plan our wedding," Arthur said, kissing Merlin again. There was a smug smirk on his lips.

Merlin rolled his eyes this time. "You're such a prat."

"I love you too, dear," Arthur said.

After a long moment, Merlin laid on his back, an arm dramatically draped over his eyes. "I didn't mind Number Nine."

Arthur stilled besides him. "Nine? Really? You want to be proposed to while standing on top of some big hill, covered in sweat and hating my guts because I made you run up there?"

Merlin lifted his arm and gaped at Arthur. "You'd make me _run_?"

"Well, you'd be sightseeing, aiming your camera at every bloody shrub along the way, and if you even read Number Nine, you'd know I'd meant to propose at _sunset_. Can't very well do that if you're lollygagging at every track in the ground and _ooh_ ing and _ahh_ ing at the bugs and birds, can I? I'd have to chase you up there just to make it on time."

"Fair point," Merlin said grudgingly. "But we could camp for the night and there's still sunrise."

"With us aching and moaning from not getting any sleep, having a romantic protein bar breakfast, and passing over the calamine because we've been snacked on by mosquitoes during the night?"

Merlin looked up at Arthur. "You're really bad at the whole spontaneous romantic thing."

"I am not. I'm considering every contingency," Arthur explained patiently. His expression softened before twisting into sheer panic. "You like spontaneous and romantic?"

Merlin slapped himself. He covered it up by rubbing his eyes with his hands. "I like _you_ , though the Gods only know why, what with your obsessive micromanaging and nitpicking over every. Single. Fucking. Detail. Propose however the bloody Hell you want to propose. Just let me sleep."

Merlin flipped over angrily, turning away from Arthur. He yanked the blankets up over his shoulder.

A few minutes passed before Arthur asked, "Merlin, are you awake?"

Merlin smacked a frustrated palm on the mattress. "I'm not discussing your ideas for proposing, Arthur. Surprise me."

"I plan to," Arthur snorted. "But at the very least, I want your input on the honeymoon."

"I don't _care_ ," Merlin moaned. "Let's go see the Yeti in the Himalayas. See if we can find Nessie in Scotland. Let's go white water rafting down Niagara Falls. We could even go to _Disneyland_. But it's all moot because you haven't bloody _proposed_ yet."

There was a long silence. "Just look at this and tell me what you think."

"No," Merlin insisted. "No. Absolutely not. I will suck your brain through your cock if I have to, but you will shut that laptop off and _go the fuck to sleep_."

There was a strangled sound, a half-chuckle. The sheets rustled; Arthur shifted on the bed, his calf brushing Merlin's shin. "Two seconds, Merlin. Say yes or no. And then, we can see how much sleep we're going to get when you've got my cock down your throat."

Merlin sighed heavily. He propped himself up on his elbows, shooting Arthur the foulest look he could manage, and glanced at the screen.

He looked again, and all of his annoyance faded.

It was yet another beachside photo, but it wasn't a stock image of the tropics like all the other ones had been. There was no pearly white beach, no crisp blue waters, no clear blue skies. There were no palm trees, no big, blooming flowers, no crabs crawling along the flat plane where the tide reached the shore.

There was a squat log cabin off to the side, smoke drifting out of the chimney. The roof extended over a front porch where there was a curving bench chair, large enough for two people, pillows and fleece blanket thrown over it.

A well-worn grass path led to the cabin; it led away to a gravel road. It led to the lakeshore beach, the sand a pale beige-brown.

A temperate forest, emerald green and lush, pine and elm and birch, stretched all around the cabin.

There were reeds on the far side of a lake so blue it was nearly black. Mountains stretched out in the distance, white-tipped and shrouded in fog and clouds. The sunlight was washed yellow and streamed between the peaks, bouncing off the lake surface, the faint wind-ripples scintillating with sparkles of stars.

A heavy wooden rowboat had been pulled up to the shore. It rested on rafters made out of polished stone, listing on one side; the rim and edges were white, the hull fire engine red, the paint peeling, oars peeking out from over the top of the hull.

Merlin must have been staring at it for longer than Arthur's prescribed _two seconds_ , because Arthur closed the laptop and whispered, "I suppose that's a 'yes', then?"

Arthur was watching him with an unguarded expression, his features soft, his mouth in a smug, pleased smile. His eyes were hooded by heavy lashes and shadowed by the light from the bedside table lamp, but there was no missing the fond affection.

"I suppose it is," Merlin said, and he felt that ache in his heart that always came with knowing that he'd just fallen that little bit more in love with this man who knew him so well.

Arthur shifted and put the laptop on the floor. He leaned over, his gorgeous body twisting in a ripple of muscle that Merlin could never get enough of, and turned the light off.

The room was pitch black for a few seconds while Merlin's vision adjusted to the dim light coming through their bathroom window -- Merlin supposed that their next-door neighbour's annoyingly bright floodlights were good for something, anyway. Arthur settled close to Merlin, the two of them locking together in a familiar, comfortable tangle of legs and limbs.

Merlin's chest swelled with a burst of horniness.

"I mentioned sucking your brains out," Merlin mumbled against Arthur's shoulder. Arthur huffed a chuckle.

"I'm holding you to that in the morning," Arthur said, kissing Merlin's temple. His hand trailed down Merlin's back and Merlin shivered. 

"Not like you not to take advantage," Merlin said, grinning.

"I got a _yes_ ," Arthur whispered, with the tone of someone pleased that he'd gotten something right. "It'll hold me for a few hours."

"Right answer, wrong question," Merlin pointed out, letting his hand rest on Arthur's chest, over his heart. He could feel Arthur's heartbeat. It was slow and steady, but deep and profound, like the sound of a heavy drum.

There wasn't an answer from Arthur. Merlin thought he'd fallen asleep. It wouldn't be the first time. All of the team had learned out of necessity to catch sleep when they could, and Arthur could fall asleep within seconds. It was a little annoying. 

Arthur let out a tiny, little sigh. "I figure if I get enough _yes_ es, when I get to the right question, you'll have forgotten how to say _no_."

Merlin didn't move, letting the words sink in. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to the hollow of Arthur's throat before nudging Arthur onto his back and settling half on his chest. 

_You bloody insecure prat. As if I could ever say no to you,_ Merlin nearly said. Instead, he whispered, "I love you."

Arthur's arms tightened around him.


End file.
